


90: A 90 is Still an A

by allislaughter



Series: Wordplay: So Love Us Till Sunset [9]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: M/M, Obsession, POV Third Person, Present Tense, The A stands for Ass, Unrequited Lust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:01:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27699340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allislaughter/pseuds/allislaughter
Summary: Post-The System is Rigged, Ninety thinks about the man he's in love with who he's not allowed to have. Clearly it's not *his* fault Apollo hates him, right?
Series: Wordplay: So Love Us Till Sunset [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1901830
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	90: A 90 is Still an A

**Author's Note:**

> Check out [The System is Rigged](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23076688/chapters/55201936) for full context of who the OCs mentioned in this fic are and their relationships to each other.

Ninety should have known long ago not to take such a foolish man’s opinions on Apollo as fact. Ninety should have known that Angle would be blinded by nostalgia. That Angle would be just as convinced by the act Apollo gave him as he was by the act Ninety put on. Smart, quiet obedience. That’s all Angle ever wanted. That’s all Angle ever said Apollo was. Ninety should have known better than to believe any of it to be true.

_ But Apollo’s smile truly is charming. Lights up the room like the sun in the sky. But Apollo’s eyes truly is the softest of browns. The eyes of an innocent man, far too innocent for the world around them. But Apollo’s poems... _

Ninety reads through every Apollo Ray poem he can find. Tries to reconcile them with the vast difference in Rig Miller’s poems now. Angle had no idea, did he? Angle only ever saw the sunshine and stilted lines Apollo would write back before the war and took them for sincerity. Angle couldn’t have known the words Rig Miller shares with the world now.

Words of a man hurt all his life.

Words of a man who adores a liar.

Words of a man, fresh to the wastelands, observing a beauty the others look over.

Rig Miller’s sunshine is masked by the shade of clouds and an approaching storm. But the light is still there. Ninety runs his fingers over the printed text and feels his heart beat faster as he falls in love all over again.

It isn’t fair. Neither of them are people... But in Apollo’s words... Ninety can love, and that makes him a person. That makes him everything the Pits didn’t want him to be.

_ Apollo truly is caring, to treat synths as people before he considers himself a person. Apollo truly is special, to want Ninety to get help more than Apollo wanted him to die. Ninety should have kissed him when he had the chance. Should have gotten something Angle never had the bravery to try. But Apollo’s poem... _

Words of a man who adores words. A kiss in itself, the poem Ninety got from Apollo...

The stilted sunshine of the pre-war poems... A lack of sincerity. Beautiful, but unearned.

It isn’t fair. Why should that liar get Apollo’s words and attention? His kisses and love for all Apollo can’t love. It isn’t fair.

Ninety never got a childhood. He’s been alive for too little a time to have gotten experience with love. But he knows about craving, about yearning, about lust. He’s learned enough from listening to Angle, from reading Apollo and Rig’s poems, from watching from afar as that liar in sunglasses holds Apollo instead of Apollo being in Ninety’s arms.

Is it wrong to covet a toy he’s been denied from the start? Is it wrong to fantasize what it would have been like to have run away with Apollo instead of taking him to the Pits? It’s  _ their _ fault Apollo hates him. Because of how  _ they _ hurt him. Is it wrong to want to steal Apollo away for himself, go somewhere that no one will find them, keep Apollo safe where those so-called friends of his never could.

_ Apollo truly is warm and pleasant to hold... Apollo truly is peaceful when sleeping, beautiful and serene. Apollo truly is a poem in himself, in his body and mind, that only Ninety should get to read. _

He needs another chance. Another way to get what he wants. Apollo should be  _ his. _ It’s not wrong to want him. It’s not fair that Apollo is sleeping in the arms of another.

He won’t be left to stilted sunshine and his own fantasies. He knows what he wants and he will do anything to get it.


End file.
